


Still Ticklish After All These Years

by MissWarmNights



Category: Real Person Fiction, Simon & Garfunkel
Genre: 1980s, Bondage, Celebrity Crush, Don't Like Don't Read, Fangirls, Gen, Music, Teenagers, Tickling, movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissWarmNights/pseuds/MissWarmNights
Summary: In 1982, Paul Simon meets a young fan who is practically in love with him. Sadly for him, the girl discovers that Paul has extremely ticklish feet.
Kudos: 1





	Still Ticklish After All These Years

The year was 1982 and I had just started college. My name is Lisa, and I was eighteen years old at the time. I had just been hired by a film studio as a coffee girl. It was my job to walk around the set and bring hot coffee to the cast and crew. I was excited to be there, and the work was simple, albeit a lot of walking around. Of course, I would have much preferred to have been an actress in the movies…but, oh well.

They were filming a movie about mobsters – I think it was a comedy. On that certain afternoon, they were shooting a scene where the mob holds a man hostage for ransom money or something. The scene took place inside a room enclosed by red brick walls. It was supposed to be the hideout where the mob held their hostage. Lights and cameras were everywhere. I passed out coffee to the director and camera men, and they always told me to keep quiet during shooting. This wasn’t a problem for me because I was a very shy person and preferred to keep my mouth shut.

Paul Simon walked up to me and asked for some coffee. I gasped and almost dropped everything on the floor. _Paul Simon?! He’s in this movie?!_ I had no idea!

I was a huge fan of Paul Simon. I even had a bit of a crush on him. He looked so handsome with that broad face, wavy brown hair, and deep dark eyes.

With trembling hands, I poured a cup of coffee and gave it to him. My hand brushed against his, and I shivered. My cheeks burned. He smiled slightly, and then walked away while carefully sipping the hot drink. He sat down and waited for shooting to begin.

After fifteen minutes of preparing, the director finally shouted, “ACTION!”

A hush fell over the studio and the actors jumped into their roles.

I was shocked to discover that Paul Simon was actually playing the part of the hostage! The tough guys dragged him into the room. They forced him to sit down and proceeded to restrain him. They tied his hands behind his back and locked his ankles in sturdy, padded stocks. The head mobster wore a fancy black suit, and he scowled to appear mean and intimidating. He was asking questions to Paul and saying infamous lines such as “We have ways to make you talk.”

I watched in awe. Paul looked genuinely worried. I knew he had probably been instructed to act nervous for the scene, but he appeared to be scared for real. His restraints looked tight and secure.

The director yelled, “And…CUT!”

Everybody relaxed.

Suddenly, a bell rang out.

“Time for a lunch break!” somebody shouted.

The cast and crew scattered, leaving the set to go out for lunch.

But nobody bothered to let poor Paul out of the stocks! He just sat there, looking shocked as everybody abandoned him for a lunch break. He would have to remain in his predicament until filming resumed.

I felt sorry for him and wanted to untie him, but I was new on this job and didn’t want to risk doing anything wrong. We were now alone – just him and me.

I made the decision to go over and chat with him. I approached him, my heart racing and my palms soaked with nervous sweat. He looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. I smiled shyly, but he did not smile back. He was nervous and probably uncomfortable.

“H-hi, I’m Lisa.”

He forced a polite smile. “I’m Paul Simon.”

“I-I know,” I stammered, feeling my cheeks burn again. “I-I’m a really big fan. I was at your concert in Central Park last year. It was the best day of my life!”

He paused for a moment before responding. “That’s nice.”

“I also watched you on Letterman recently.”

He nodded, and then started tugging on his restraints. He checked to see if he could free his hands or pull his feet from the stocks, but it was useless.

“They really tied you good, didn’t they? I wish I could untie you, but…but I don’t know if I should…”

“Forget it, Lisa. It’s fine,” he replied with a sigh. “You know, I’m just glad my son doesn’t have to see me like this.”

I giggled, trying to relax a bit. “So, um, what exactly will happen to you in this scene?”

He bit his lip, glancing away for a moment. “Honestly, Miss, I’m not entirely sure.”

“You mean…the director didn’t explain anything to you?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s supposed to be an interrogation scene,” he said, rolling his eyes. “That’s all they told me. And now, here I am…wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Interrogation, huh? Gee, I hope they won’t hurt you.”

“Nah,” he snorted. “It’s just a movie, Miss. Nobody is really going to hurt me.”

I observed how his feet were locked securely in the stocks, and a thought occurred to me…

“Maybe they’re going to tickle you.”

A deer-in-the-headlights expression flashed across Paul’s face. I could see panic in his eyes as he stared at me. He began shaking his head in doubt.

“No. No, no, that…that is ridiculous.”

I smiled coyly, feeling a little braver now. “Mr. Simon, are you ticklish?”

He blushed furiously and fidgeted in his seat.

I couldn’t believe that I had actually made my idol blush! This made me blush as well.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Okay, yes. I admit it…I’m very ticklish.”

A girlish giggle escaped my throat. “Aw, really? That is so cute!”

I had a huge interest in tickling – it was one of my deep, dark secrets.

“Don’t tell anybody, okay?” he said humbly.

“Okay, I won’t,” I replied, sitting on the floor, close to his feet.

I wanted to do it…but I knew I shouldn’t. What if he got angry at me? He could easily have me fired if he wanted to. It was a bad idea, but…but I just had to! Paul was adorable, he seemed very nice, and this opportunity was just too tempting!

Without another thought, I grabbed Paul’s tennis shoes and started undoing the laces. I removed his shoes one by one, revealing a pair of dark blue socks.

“Oh no…no, no, no, no! Please don’t!”

I slowly pulled off his socks, revealing his bare feet. He wiggled his toes, cringing and already giggling.

“Oh, come on, don’t tickle my feet! Anything but the feet!”

I smiled and began tickling his bare foot, starting at the heel and skittering up to his toes.

He shrieked and burst into laughter!

“Does that tickle?” I gleefully teased him. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

I held back his toes with one hand and continued wiggling my fingers up and down his sole, making him laugh hysterically. He struggled desperately in his restraints as tears formed in his eyes. I kept this up for about five minutes and then gave him a break.

Then, I gently pinched his big toe and waggled it playfully.

“This little piggy went to market…This little piggy stayed home!” I was having WAY too much fun.

I went through all ten toes, wiggling each of them while saying that silly nursery rhyme. He had this huge grin on his face as he giggled and squirmed around. My playing with his toes proved to be super ticklish for him. I found a little tickle spot between his pinky toe and he absolutely squealed!

Paul had the most contagious giggles, and I started laughing right along with him. I was truly astonished by how ticklish he was…I never knew a grown man could be this ticklish. In fact, I never knew _anybody_ could be this ticklish!

At the end of ‘this little piggy’, I tickled all over the soles of his feet, causing him to explode in shrieking laughter. The arches and toes were his weakest spots. My evil side had taken over, and I kept attacking his worst spots. I would scratch his arches with my nails, and then get his toes. He threw his head back and laughed so hard that tears came streaming down his red face. He thrashed about, bucking and slamming his back against the chair. His eyes pleaded for mercy, but he was laughing too hard to speak.

After a few minutes, I took pity on him and stopped tickling him. I was also very afraid that I would get into trouble if I made him pass out.

He fought to catch his breath, still cutely giggling from the tickles. It took him several minutes to calm down. His sweat-covered face glistened under the bright studio lights. His eyes were red and puffy from the tears of laughter that stained his cheeks. As I watched him, a feeling of guilt washed over me…I started to feel bad. I had no right to take advantage of a trapped man.

“Mr. Simon, I…I-I never should have done that,” I stammered, trying to explain myself. “I just…I just couldn’t resist. I mean, this isn’t really like me at all…I-I don’t know what got into me.”

He looked at me, shaking his head in disgust. “You fans and your crazy fetishes.”

I think he wanted to curse but held back because I was only a teenage girl. I lowered my head, feeling bad about what I had done. I became scared, thinking he might have me fired now.

Paul breathed heavily, still regaining his composure. “I haven’t been tickled this much since…1969.”

I glanced up, curiously. “Why, what happened in 1969?”

“Oh, uh…nothing. Never mind,” he stammered, hoping to drop the subject.

“Somebody else tickled you?”

“Y-yeah, I won’t talk about it.”

Apparently, he had fallen victim to a devious tickler many years ago. He once had a terrible experience with tickling, and I had just done it to him again.

At that moment, a bell rang, and everybody returned from their lunch break and immediately got back to work. I ran away from Paul as fast as I could, grabbed my coffee pot, and pretended to be innocent. The director walked around the set, yelling at people to take their positions. He went over to Paul and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Paul. We’ll pick up the scene right where we left off,” the director said.

“Yeah, fine,” Paul mumbled.

Then, the director noticed Paul’s bare feet and smiled. “Oh, good. He’s already shoeless and sockless. Perfect.”

“Huh?” Paul said, confused.

The director went to recline in his chair. “Places, everyone! It’s time for the interrogation scene…and let’s make it look real! ACTION!”

Paul looked highly nervous and confused as the mobsters surrounded him, chuckling darkly about their effective torture methods. On cue, a large, burly man entered the room and approached Paul’s vulnerable feet while holding two goose feathers!

Paul’s heart sank. “Oh no…not again.”

Poor Paul Simon. I felt really bad for him that day. I also felt guilty about what I had done to him. I had hoped to see him again later so that I could apologize, but I never saw him again after that. I still had a job though, so I assumed he didn’t complain about me or tell anybody what happened, and I’m grateful to him for that.

When the film was released, it got mostly bad reviews and flopped at the box office. Oh, and the “interrogation” sequence got deleted. So, basically, Paul went through all that torture and humiliation for nothing. But I guess it was all for the best because Paul probably didn’t want the whole world to watch him get tickle tortured anyway. Hopefully the experience didn’t traumatize him too badly – he seemed like such a nice man.

I still think about our encounter whenever I listen to his music, and I can still hear that adorable laugh in my head. I am curious about the circumstances in 1969 when he mentioned being tickled silly. What I did to him was wrong…I admit that. But it certainly was a thrilling experience for me, getting to tickle my celebrity crush and make him laugh and squeal! It was a lot of fun, so I can’t punish myself too much.

The End


End file.
